I was showing a friend around the church when I found an orange chequebook on a wooden bench and went off to hand it in. A man in a suit handed me a bunch of keys and asked me to put it in the safe. None of the keys fitted and I grew increasingly irritated.

Having read some of the other entries, I realised that all I had to do to win the short story competition was put pen to paper. But as I tried to think of something to write about, I realised that I didn’t have one single idea. Fortunately I was about to take part in a round the world boat race so I could just pretend I had been too busy to write.